


The Door Open

by salamanderinspace



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anxiety, Drabble, Empathy Exercise, Gen, Jedi Mind Trick, Mind Control, Mind Games, Sympathy for the Devil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamanderinspace/pseuds/salamanderinspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S/o to that first Stormtrooper that Rey had to mind trick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Door Open

**Author's Note:**

> Idk this was just a writing exercise but I think I may be writing lots of SW:TFA in 2016.

_Maybe she was scared_ , thought JB-007, _maybe she thought she was going to die._

She wasn't. Kylo Ren looked favorably on her. The troops could tell. They all had to get familiar with Ren's moods to know when the shit was coming, and the shit was lightyears away when the prisoner pulled that witchcraft. _You will remove these restraints and leave with the door open._ She had been safe in a locked, quiet room, locked up with no one but him, and there were worse places to be in the galaxy than Starkiller Base. He'd been to them. He knew what it was like to attack out of fear. That wasn't what happened. It wasn't what she'd done.

 _Maybe they don't get scared,_ he thought. It seemed for a second like that was the case. When she reached inside to control him, invading him, he could almost see down the length of her arm into...something. Something warm and bright and burning. It wasn't anger or fear. It was a place without anger or fear.

An alarm sounded somewhere. The shields were probably malfunctioning, but that wasn't JB's job right now. He was awaiting the consequences of his treason. Though it hadn't been _his_ treason. It had been that scavenger _scum_ , in his mind like a drug. There was a halo where she'd been, a glowing spot. Damnit, this wasn't right. It was not right that she could do what she did to his brain and feel no fear or remorse. After all, after all he'd seen, the training and the campaigns--four of them now?--he still felt fear and remorse, always. There were guns around him at all times, guns on him and moving past him. There were the piercing eyes of a Master to see his thoughts. _Were they ever my thoughts?_ He'd thought of himself as a brave solider. Focus in the face of terror and sound. He was a fighter, a good one, so what was she? She had no training, no job. She wasn't even enlisted with the resistance. She was nothing! She'd controlled him so easily and she was just a child. Just a child! If she could do that, if that was possible, then what did it mean to be a soldier, these days? Was it even worth thinking about? _Are any of these thoughts even really my own?_

JB-007 crumpled into a ball on the floor in his cell. He was still wearing the uniform; he would doubtlessly be stripped, soon, and unmade. He would be punished for letting the girl go. Did she know the wrath she'd brought down on him? But it wasn't her fault. It was his. It had to be his fault; no one else could _make_ him do something, make him think something. He had to believe that. He felt shame at his weakness. The alarms were growing louder. The lights were flickering on and off, which wasn't a good sign. There was a tremendous noise, and the room shook. JB-007 began to wonder if he should worry, but the truth was, he could not possibly give a fuck. He couldn't think about anything but the young prisoner. He could still hear her voice, soft, like a key sliding into a lock. _You will remove these restraints and leave with the door open._ He tried to reclaim his own thoughts but her voice kept invading. Other thoughts kept invading, too, and he didn't know where they came from: _you're not a person, you're a part of a system._ _Your only value is your value to the Order._ Damn, right, he had value to the Order! He was a soldier, a fighter, not an animal. He suddenly didn't know if there was a difference. His throat tightened. He couldn't breathe. He lifted one hand to pull at his helmet but it caught on the hairs on the back of his neck. _When did I last have them trimmed?_ He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember what color his hair was. 

JB-007 wondered if the girl was thinking of him. If she'd ever think of him again. If he'd been human to her. She'd been _in his head._ Did she know him? Did she even know what she'd done? Did she understand the threshhold she'd crossed, when she pushed into his mind like that? And that she'd left with the door open?


End file.
